Dispensing Starlight
by poisoned-pill
Summary: A story with original characters set in the background of Hogwarts. Love finds itself in most unexpected places. Hector Hanover and Jamie Atkinham are caught in a complex web of charms, deceit and revenge and yet still find it in themselves to love.
1. Chapter 1

Jamie stood at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, looking around her and relieved to be breathing the fresh air of London again. Nostalgia hit her like a wave. She had not thought of home so strongly since she left for Hogwarts a year ago. It had seemed ludicrous then, to want to return to a school which she had been holed up in. Alicia, most of all, had laughed the loudest and now she had the last laugh. Alicia! Married! Jamie tried to conjure up a thought of her younger sister all decked out in bridal material and walking down the aisle and shook her head laughing. She had never thought Alicia would be first before her.

Jamie strolled, recognizing the familiar stale musky air of London and unknowingly humming a childhood tune. She had rid herself of the horribly dreary professor's cloak on the train and slipped into a beige wool plaid tweed trenchcoat, a gift from Alicia before she had set off for Hogwarts. At the Tube, she squeezed herself into an available seat and fished out a travel-worn piece of paper from her front pocket. It was the hundredth time she had read the letter, yet everytime she read it, she felt the same rush of joy.

_Dear Jamie,_

_I do hope you can find time away from your busy teaching schedule to come home! I am getting married! I know I have never mentioned him to you before but I always thought that he would want to wait a few more years before he popped the question. Well, it was certainly a pleasant surprise! I have his photo enclosed with this letter. He is Jarrod Dugbra, one of the most charming, handsome men I've ever met. He is a Londoner, by any measure, born and bred in this bloody rainy city. You have got to meet him. I think you'll like him. He's the perfect husband, gentle, kind and forgiving. He stays in the Southern part of London, in a huge house! His family owns a huge steel company back in India (which explains his wealth). Mom is delighted. Dad is well, reserved. You know him, he's never been one to really display affection. I really want you to be here! Jarrod's family is insisting on an elaborate Indian wedding, following tradition, and I'm really excited by all this preparation! I am happier than I've ever been before, Jamie. I feel that I can want nothing more in life after marriage. Mom and Dad are all looking forward to your return!__ And most of all, me._

_Alicia_

Jamie smiled to herself, folded up the letter and slipped it back. Since young, Alicia had always been the smarter one, beating Jamie at every turn, getting a job at the Hospital as a Healer. It was Alicia who followed Dad's footsteps in pursuing Healing. It was Alicia, the role model, who achieved everything Jamie failed to fulfill. In a sense, Alicia Atkinham was the model daughter that the Atkinhams had initially thought Jamie would be. Jamie sighed. And now Alicia Atkinham would be their favourite daughter who nabbed the perfect son-in-law.

Hector Hanover sat in his father's great swiveling chair, pushing himself across the room and back again playfully.

"Hector!" Tricia Hanover chided. Hector smiled and walked up to the elderly lady, switching on his charm and planting a well-timed kiss on her cheek. Tricia blushed in spite of herself, and slapped him on the shoulder playfully. "You can't get out of everything with a kiss, you know. You're much older now."

Hector smiled widely again, then put an arm around his mother's shoulder. "Mom, I'll never be too old to kiss you."

Tricia observed her son with a tinge of pride. He had grown up to be a handsome twenty-six year old man even in his casual attire of jeans and a striped collared shirt. His hair was like his father's, a dark earthly brown. He reminded her of the elderly Michael Hanover too much, in the suave manner of walking, the sweet and honeyed tongue and the sparkling michief in his eye. She sighed and reached out a hand to smooth her son's hair. At least Michael Hanover was _once_ like that.

The sound of an opening door brought a change of scene. Hector escaped the room almost immediately, as if his father's return home had been a strong enough repellent to send him shooting up into his vast and lonely room. Tricia bent down to smooth the creases in the swivel chair and adjusting the metal engraved Slytherin crest at the corner of the office desk. She, like her son, feared to anger Michael. As if on cue, Michael stepped into the room. It was not hard to see the resemblance to Hector yet the playfulness was gone and what remained was a slightly handsome, tall, hulking emotionless specimen of a man. He set down his briefcase and slipped into his swivel chair with a deep sigh that resonated across the room.

"I would like some…tea." He said abruptly. Even Tricia was caught by surprise. Michael was always too tired to talk, too tired to remain awake long enough for a brief glance at his family. Tricia almost leapt up with delight at the possibility of a communication. She nodded furiously and left the room.

Michael turned his chair to face the wide window and the far-stretching plains; the great Hanover estate. When younger, these fields had been his playground, then they had been Hector's playground…When was the last time he had seen Hector? It seemed his son and wife were more like phantoms that slid in and out of his life. He tried to recall, build up an image of his son. How old would he be now? Twenty-four, twenty-five? His thoughts were broken by Tricia's entrance with two cups of tea, one presumedly for herself. With a strange mix of anticipation and trepidation, she set the tea-cup before her husband and sat down opposite in one of the red spacious chairs that Michael had always disapproved of because of the large amount of space they took up.

The silence was oppressive, broken only by sips of tea from both sides. Years of minimal conversation had robbed them of the intimate speech that had coloured their days of courtship. Then Michael cleared his throat. He was a man not fond of wasting too much time. There was business to be done.

"How is Hector?"

Tricia stared up in surprise and murmured something that sounded like a weak attempt at summarising the astronomical growth that a boy can experience between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five.

"What does he do nowadays?"

"He…stays at home." Tricia replied, suddenly realizing how useless that made her son sound. She hadn't been aware of his ultimate inactivity. Michael grunted, expecting that exact answer. He removed an envelope from his briefcase and slid it across the table towards Tricia.

Tricia made no attempt to pick it up as yet. "What is that?"

"Something I got for him to do." Michael said absently. "It is most unhealthy for a young man of his age to be whiling his time away. As the only heir of the Hanover family, I'd expect him to be a little more…proactive."

Tricia eyed the little Hogwarts crest that nestled in the top corner of the envelope. "Hector just graduated…"

"I know." Michael interrupted impatiently. "Read it."

Tricia winced at his slightly raised voice and tore the envelope, spilling out a mess of several papers and documents folded precisely at thirds. Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in the contents of the letter. "You can't mean for Hector to be a…"

"…Professor?" Michael finished. "Why not? You have told me before that he is amazingly adept at the use of his wand. I thought Charms would be perfect."

"Yes, it would be but…how did you get this?"

"I have my…sources." Michael replied vaguely. He had in fact, been very closely connected in Gringotts dealings with the Borovics, whose daughter was a well-liked Professor of Magical Creatures in the school. But Tricia did not need to know the details. "All you need to know is that he does not need to go through the four-year training course for Professors and will immediately leap to Professorship. Apparently, they are experiencing a dearth of Professors of Charms and are currently in desperate need of them as a Professor has taken a month's leave on short notice."

Tricia forced out a smile. Truth be told she was more than delighted that Michael had for once, bothered about Hector but she feared Hector would not like the appointment. "But Michael, Hector might not want to…"

"Hector does not have his say in this matter." Michael added firmly, already preparing his reply should Hector object. "His scores in Charms has been consistently good throughout Hogwarts and he will be more than prepared to take on Professorship tomorrow."

"Tomorrow!" Tricia exclaimed. "You can't be serious!"

"It is best he gets out of his lazy habits and get down to work fast."

"But Michael…"

Michael drummed his fingers impatiently along the side of his desk, fixing Tricia a stare. "There are no 'buts' in my family."


	2. Chapter 2

Alicia slipped into her pale blue sari, fumbling despite the help of others to swing the sash across her neck and down her back

Alicia slipped into her pale blue sari, fumbling despite the help of others to swing the sash across her neck and down her back. Silvery beads hung sparsely across the dress, snaking down to her feet. The curtains were drawn and Jarrod finally stood still after pacing impatiently. Alicia smiled shyly, her gaze kept turning down to look at her feet.

Jarrod smiled, and went up to Alicia, putting both hands on her shoulder.

"Perfect." He smiled. Alicia laughed and hugged him while at her back he snapped his fingers, calling out his butler, Elliot, a stern-looking elderly man who came out bearing a shallow blue box. Beaming widely, Jarrod opened the box. Alicia gasped at the sight of the diamonds, all winking back at her.

"Jarrod, I…"

"Shush." Jarrod murmured, placing one finger on Alicia's lips, then leaning over to circle her neck with diamonds. When Jarrod retreated, Alicia fingered the diamonds almost doubtfully, as if she was not sure if the diamonds belonged there. Jarrod smiled and turned her around to face the mirror.

"The perfect set of diamonds to accompany the greatest jewel of all." He whispered in her ear, exciting a spate of uncontrollable giggles. Suddenly in the mirror, Alicia espied the entrance of another person. Almost shoving Jarrod aside, she ran down the steps in her full glory and straight into the embrace of Jamie.

"Oh God, what are you doing here!" Alicia exclaimed through laughter. "Dad and Brenda are waiting for you at home!"

"I came to get a privileged view of the bride." Jamie replied promptly, taking in the strong rose scent that she had missed so much in Hogwarts. "Alicia, you're beautiful. And those astronomically big diamonds certainly do help."

Alicia laughed. Her sister had not lost that typical humour. "Jarrod just gave them to me."

Abruptly aware that she had forsaken her fiance, she quickly returned to his side, slipping her hand through his crooked arm. Jamie took stock of Jarrod from afar and admired his strong build, something which did not show in the photographs. Alicia cleared her throat. "Jamie, meet my fiance, Jarrod Dugbra."

In a gentleman like fashion, Jarrod extended a hand and shook Jamie's firmly. Jamie glanced aside at Alicia with a raised brow, silently asking cheekily where she got such a good catch. Jarrod was undoubtedly handsome with well-chiseled Indian features and an air about him that gave Jamie the impression of a fortress around her sister. Jamie nodded almost as if in approval.

She should admit defeat after all.

Hector felt the thuddering of the train beneath his feet and felt growing dread upon returning to the school. The sudden bursting of the bubble in which he floated naturally did not appeal much to him and worst of all, his father had decidedly banished him back to school. Hector had scored well at Charms but for Hogwarts to even consider accepting him back as a teacher with his poor school conduct, his father must have had a really tiring time pulling strings. And strangely enough, he did not feel gratitude.

Hogwarts had not changed one bit. The school grounds were still as old and antique-looking as five years back. The gardens still grew beautifully, sparkling with the magic that the Herbology Professor used to maintain it. From far away, the willow tree howled mournfully, giving Hector the shudders as he remembered his pranks on the tree and its hefty consequences. Unconsciously, he fingered the long scar down his right arm. He never remembered procuring it but knew it must have been from that stupid old tree.

"Hector Hanover?" A voice interrupted his thoughts. Turning around, he found himself facing a brown-haired teenage with a crooked nose, obviously broken from Quidditch. As if on cue, a troop of other young boys stepped out behind the first, a few holding their broomsticks protectively out in front of them. All of them were decked out in the familiar black gowns trimmed with Slytherin green. The boy who headed them all looked familiar and Hector racked his brains for a name.

"You are Hanover." The boy exclaimed again after peering closely at Hector's face. Hector was abruptly hit with a memory of his last years at Hogwarts, after dropping frogs into Professor Twitch's drawer when he found a small brown-haired boy watching his every move in a mixed sense of awe and fear. He had changed little, other than the fact that he had grown vastly larger and taller, the same height as Hector or even taller.

"Bruce." Hector surprised himself as he conjured up the name almost as if it had only been yesterday when the little brown-haired boy had witnessed his prankk. "Bruce Usher."

Bruce smiled widely and shook Hector's hand roughly. There was a flood of whispers and murmurs that travelled through the crowd of Slytherins. Hector caught the words 'pranks' repeated in wonder more than once and could not help smiling to himself. He remembered alright. When he was Year Seven he had hit the record for the most number of entrances he made to the Headmaster's Office. His charm usually got him out of situations like that but his infamous pranks remained a legend throughout school.

"What are you doing here?" Bruce asked, beaming with pride that Hector had remembered his name.

Hector attempted to execute a nonchalant shrug. "I'm a Professor."

The murmurs grew louder as the Slytherin boys begin to take this in. A blonde-haired boy half the size of Bruce exclaimed, "How…"

A resounding smack across the head from Bruce shut the blonde-haired boy up just as a tall figure began to stride across the field to where the congregation stood. The signature crumpled hat immediately identified her as Professor Patshire. The Gryffindor Professor of Transfiguration had been the victim of many of Hector's jokes and Hector distinctly remembered her being not too pleased about it. The Slytherin boys had naturally dispersed, leaving the way clear for Professor Patshire to approach Hector.

"I see, Master Hanover, that you have returned to haunt the school with your pranks once more."

"Oh, I do assure you Madam, that I am far beyond pranks." He replied, sweeping a florid bow, almost reaching out to kiss Patshire's hands if she had not withdrawn quickly. "I have come to be a Professor."

"Your pranks with frogs and other little…animals…" Patshire winced at the memory of a dead rat in her shoe. "…were minor but asking me to believe you could become a Professor is altogether beyond my imagination, Hanover."

"Well for some time, it was beyond mine too." Hector wanted to say. Instead he flashed a toothy smile and asked to be taken to see the Headmaster.


	3. Chapter 3

The Headmaster's Office, like the rest of the school, had barely changed

The Headmaster's Office, like the rest of the school, had barely changed. The Headmaster, Tony Britch, lounged in his own swivel chair, with his back against the door, facing the beautiful Hogwarts grounds outside the window. His fingers tapped the table nervously and he only swung around upon hearing the creak of the door opening. A young slender woman slid in and approached the table cautiously.

"Hello, dearie."

At such an old age, it was hard for the Headmaster to look away from the scantily-clad body that presented itself to him. Gretel Borovic was well-endowed in every sense of the word. Her full breasts dangled tantalizingly in front of the Headmaster as she deliberately bent far over to deposit few sheets of paper, sliding it seductively in front of him. Britch deliberately turned away, clasping his fingers together nervously. She had worked her charms before but now they would not work against him. He wondered why he had hired her as Professor in the first place. She was definitely too young. Her credentials, Tony reminded himself harshly, she had good credentials, a good magical family background, played Quidditch for Slytherin etcetera. The excuses even though oft-repeated were already beginning to sound tiresome.

"What is it?" He asked tartly, refusing to look her way.

Gretel seemed to lean further over the table. On closer inspection, she looked even younger than initially perceived, her face covered with thick rouge and a dark maroon lipstick. She was about the same age as Jamie and Hector.

"A new Professor applicant, Headmaster." Her voice was silky smooth and in spite of himself, Britch still turned to look at the sheets of paper which were in all actuality, application papers. He studied them, then almost burst out into uproarious laughter.

"Hector Hanover?" Britch laughed, running a hand over his semi-bald head. "You cannot be serious, Miss Borovic. I have only accepted two professors of your age and already it has been such a hassle getting the others to approve and accept."

"You could always do it again." Gretel replied promptly. "Now you have me to add to the persuasion."

Britch shook his head. "You do not understand. Hanover does not have the credentials nor the reputation to back him up."

Gretel remained silent but reached over to turn the application to the subsequent page with a list of Hector's excellent scores in Charms. Britch nodded, "Yes I am aware but that was only because he was most adept at using charms for pranks…"

"What matters is that he is good at it, isn't it? With the Atkinham girl gone for at least a month, you're in desperate need of a replacement…"

"But you are talking about Hector Hanover here…"

"His family has a fortune rival to the Borovics and at this point in time, it would be an excellent idea to have them on your team, don't you think?" Gretel said curtly, her manner was now more business-like than before and her voice raised a little. Britch frowned. It was wrong but Gretel had made a valid point. His position at the tip of Hogwarts was not as before, there were strong pureblood families out there who believed his genealogy had a mix of Muggle blood in it.

Gretel folded her arms, watching the Headmaster's face change slowly from incredulity to understanding. She knew as well as Britch did that she had made a valid point, like she always did. If Hector Hanover was in her reach, she mused, the Borovics and the Hanovers could together monopolize power in the magical world. She looked upon the moving photograph attached to the front of the application. Hector moved in from the frames and displayed an excellent smile. He might have eluded her before, but not now.

The wedding went ahead smoothly, at least insofar as Jamie could tell. She was unfamiliar with the Indian wedding traditions and thus was ignorant on most parts, only for a moment glancing up from smoothing her dress, which was honestly rather uncomfortable, when the jasmine flowers were being strewn. Her only distinct memory was of her sister, decked out in the sari, looking more the jewel than ever. Jamie knew that she had a right to be jealous at that point, watching her younger sister in her full glory, undergoing the rites that she, as the elder sister, should have undertaken earlier. But for a minute, she could only glow with pride.

Jamie slid into the bride's room just before the reception was about to begin, watching as her sister slipped out of the sari into a stately dress, another gift from the Dugbras.

"My younger sister's all grown up." She mused almost nostalgically.

Alicia laughed. "You can't expect me to forever stay young can you?" She ran a comb through her long dark hair. "How is Hogwarts?"

"Fine. I survived the first term at least." Jamie smiled, playing with her fingers. "I'm probably good enough for them to miss me terribly for a month. I hear they are getting a replacement."

"Hopefully not some old fogey."

"They don't really like young Professors anyway. There's only two of us in the entire school."

"Who's the other one?"

"Gretel Borovic."

"Oh, I remember that slut." Alicia crossed her arms. "She convinced Benjy that I wasn't good enough for him."

Jamie laughed and wrapped her arms around Alicia from behind. "Well at least you proved her wrong now. She'd probably be green with envy if she saw Jarrod."

"She's a Slytherin pureblood. Muggles are out of the question."

"Let's talk about other things." Jamie changed the subject adeptly. She never mixed with Gretel too much and did not want to either. Ignorance was bliss. "How is your job at the Hospital?"

There was a strange unexpected silence as Alicia stopped the act of brushing her hair, placing the brush down carefully by her side. "I quit my job."

Jamie could not hide her shock, which Alicia could see clearly through the reflection in the mirror. "But, Ally, I always thought you wanted to become a Healer!"

Alicia steeled herself. It had never occurred to her that the truth would be so hard to tell. "I did, but…its all over now."

Jamie opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words came out and Alicia took the cue to continue. "Jarrod, he's a religious man."

Jamie stared into the wells of Alicia's eyes, desperately trying to dig out even one small scrap of truth. Her eyes were welling up yet they told nothing. _He's a religious man. _She knew about religion. And more than ever, she knew that religion and magic did not necessarily go hand-in-hand. "Al, you can't mean…"

"I love him, Jamie." Alicia reached out to clasp Jamie's hands, hoping, praying that she would understand. "I would do anything to be the perfect wife. Anything. And if it takes this, I'd do it."

"You can't just…" Jamie spread her arms wide in pure helplessness. "…quit magic! You can't quit being a witch! It's in your blood!"

"It's not!" Alicia flared up. She would be the perfect wife, just as Jarrod was her perfect husband. She had to be. "I can leave it all behind! I'll never return to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Mom and Dad will never speak of it! I…"

There were tears streaming down Alicia's face. She had been through this conversation once before with Mom and Dad. They had told her it was the best way to go. One or the other. If she couldn't let him go, she had to compromise. She would. Without knowing it, she was in Jamie's arms, crying into her shoulder. The mascara was smearing into a colourful mess on Jamie's cream white gown but it did not matter to her. Jamie only knew that she needed to hold onto Alicia tight enough so she would not lose her only sister to Jarrod Dugbra.


	4. Chapter 4

"Jamie Atkinham

"Jamie Atkinham." Hector repeated perfunctorily to himself. They had cleared the space in one of the storerooms to accommodate him. It was a practical room, one single bed in the corner flanked by a rickety old table and a longer mahogany table where books of Charms stacked up over one another. He had not known that Tricia would pack in all his old textbooks. He would have preferred to hang the rules and taught by his own methods.

In front of him, he held up a few bound sheets of paper, the application form of the 'Professor' he would be replacing for half a term. The young scantily-clad lady in the room with the Headmaster had slipped it through the crook of his arm as he left the Headmaster's Office in a particularly cold and hostile meeting leaving Professor Patshire extremely sour. He remembered taking one long look at her bottom as she swayed out into the corridor but had not taken the effort to remember her name. She was not particularly attractive, only pretty in the way a lecherous man would judge a woman. Hector's attention reverted quickly back to the application form. The girl smiling back at him from a still photograph intrigued him more. She was a Pureblood, or so the application form said, a Ravenclaw, an exemplary Prefect with almost perfect scores in Charms. He was different from her on all fronts except that he too was a Pureblood and his ability in Charms was nowhere short of hers. He studied the face closely, it was a youthful face, shoulder-length hair brought into a messy bundle behind. She wore an almost coy, witty look. Hector imagined that if it was a moving photograph, she probably would have raised her eyebrows at him then stalked off to the right frame.

Unexplainably mildly annoyed, he thrust aside the sheets and stared at the ceiling, cluttered with cobwebs and thousand-years-old dust. Why on earth would the butt-swaying woman think he would be interested in whose place he was taking? He would only be here for half-a-term. He did not even want to meet her. As soon as she returned, he hoped to be back home lounging in Michael's obnoxious swivel chair.

There was a knock on the door as Gretel sauntered in with a stack of new papers.

"What now?" Hector groaned, feeling the weight of the papers on his table. He wanted to burn it, burn it all.

Gretel merely smiled. "Your new timetable and a few student statistics you might be interested in."

"Bullshit." Hector replied rudely. "I'm not interested in any _student statistics_. I'm only going to be here for a few weeks."

"Or maybe not." Gretel smiled and decisively slid onto the edge of Hector's table, dangerously close to where he was. He could not help noticing that her shirt was pulled down a little, revealing more cleavage despite the cloak that hung loosely around her shoulder. He didn't think anybody could wear the cloak and still look like such a skank.

Playfully taking the bait, he leaned over, purposely avoided the fluttering lashes and asked softly, "I have yet to have the honour of your name, my lady."

Gretel chuckled. "Oh, what a gentleman. You really should not be polite, Hector. I'm inclined to think we've known each other long enough to avoid all these courtesies."

The reply stumped Hector a bit, though he did not show it. Instead he retreated into his chair and turned around, displaying a complete lack of concern for the lady on the verge of throwing herself into his lap. He could not remember her, try as he might. In his younger days he had been much of a flirt and now he could barely recall the scores of girls he dated.

Gretel, realizing that he was gradually losing interest, cleared her throat to give him the hint. "You couldn't have forgotten me, could you Hector? I'm Gretel! Borovic!"

The name 'Borovic' first made him prick his ears before he remembered Gretel, a Slytherin girl. Her record of relationships was not clean either, in fact almost as polluted as his own. So she had not changed.

"I do remember." He lied smoothly but professionally.

"I knew you would." Gretel smiled, boldly enough reaching over to wrap the black cloak she had been instructed to bring over around his broad shoulders and then smoothing the creases down.

Leaning over she whispered in his ear, "Welcome to Hogwarts."

Jamie's mood was darkened by her sister's confession yet despite that, she had to put on her happy smiling front. She had to be happy. It was one of the brightest days of the Atkinham family. _Get a grip, Jamie, _she muttered silently to herself as she pinched her cheek to smoothen her smile. _Be happy. _As if on cue, she felt a strong hand on her shoulder turn her around. The face she met with was strong and hard, a face that had weathered many storms and yet one that she was so familiar with.

"Dad." She laughed. David Atkinham held his daughter at arm's length, surveying the young lady she had grown up into. The duo were soon joined by Brenda Atkinham. Jamie stared at the two affectionately, despite Brenda's head of bright blonde hair. It was clear neither Jamie nor Alicia, with dark brown hair, were born of Brenda, yet she had been the only motherly figure they had ever had. Beside David, Brenda looked immensely gentle, with a round rotund figure and bright blushing cheeks.

"Have you seen your sister?" Brenda asked in her high-pitched voice. She sounded constantly excited. "Oh isn't she the most beautiful creature ever?"

"Gorgeous." Jamie smiled.

David's eyes roamed the crowd before settling on a group of people not far from where he stood. The eldest of the lot, a man with white wizened hair caught his eye and stepped forward, addressing at once, all three present. His entourage followed him. The white haired man shook David's hand, clasping them between his palms. The glance they gave each other was polite, Jamie could only guess that he was another of David's business partners.

"David!" The white haired man exulted. "You look positively glowing."

"I didn't know it showed on my face." David laughed curtly. "I'm glad you found the time to come, Jonas."

Now that the white-haired man had a name, it seemed only polite that Jamie introduced herself. The white-haired man seemed delighted to see her. "Ah, so this is the daughter David always talks about."

Jonas turned behind, beckoning forward a member of his entourage who had previously remained shrouded in the shadows. He was a young man, no more than a few years older than Jamie herself, tall and stately. There was a little resemblance to Jonas, in the sharp chin and neatly combed hair.

"My son." Jonas uttered proudly. "Nicholas."

Jamie gave a little curtsy, under the watchful satisfied eyes of her father. Unknown to her or Nicholas, Jonas and David had locked eyes behind the two of them. David's glance was perfunctory but Jonas's eyes held a glint of mischief. Brenda clapped her hands in naïve delight.

"Oh, it always pleases me when two young people meet." She turned to Jamie. "I never see you with any men…"

Jamie cast a warning glance at Brenda, trying to keep the smile on her face while doing so. Brenda was completely oblivious. "We have been trying so hard to find her an acquaintance for so long and…"

Jamie's firm grip on Brenda's hand stopped her. Nicholas laughed and replied, "I would find that immensely hard to believe."

Jamie was first hit with incredulity, then gentle surprise. It was always polite to make such a remark but from Nicholas, it sounded dead serious. She looked up and met Nicholas's eye. Half of her wanted to turn away in embarrassment, but the other half knew that turning away would make her appear the shy blushing maiden she did not want to be. She met his stare head-on and gave him a half-questioning smile before being interrupted by the small orchestra breaking out into song.

"I expect its time for the dance!" Brenda said excitedly, grabbing David's arm. "Come, honey."

Reluctantly, David allowed Brenda to lead him away and Jonas soon found himself diverted by another conversation. Jamie turned on her heels to leave but was stopped by Nicholas.

"Why so fast?"

Jamie smiled thinly. "Good sir, if you would just care to release me."

Nicholas glanced down at his grip on her arm and let go, almost in shame. Unperturbed, Jamie bobbed a curtsy and turned away.

"But one dance?" Nicholas called to her retreating shadow. Jamie stopped. Nicholas pressed his hands to the side of his coat, he had never been so bold before with a girl. He was, needless to say, nervous. Jamie could hear the uncertainty in his voice, like a young schoolboy's fear that his offer of a flower would be rejected. Making a great effort to control her laughter, she walked back to Nicholas and held out her hand. Smiling with relief, Nicholas took her hand and led her to the spacing cleared in the middle of the crowd.

Nicholas encircled her small waist with his arm and took her hand. The dance, however, seemed mostly led by Jamie rather than Nicholas. She was confident in her pacing, leading Nicholas and even at one point in time, pulling him closer, complaining that she was stepping into the path of others. Other than that, the dance was mostly silent. Jamie did not feel compelled to talk with such a quiet partner till he spoke first.

"I hear you are a Professor at Hogwarts." Because of the noise around them, Nicholas had to lean over her shoulder to whisper in her ear for anything to be heard.

"Yes, in Charms."

"Oh." On second thought, he added. "My sister is a Professor there too. I daresay she is only about your age or maybe slightly older."

Jamie raised her eyebrow. She knew almost instantly who he spoke of, considering that there were only so many young Professors of her age, but feigned ignorance anyway.

"Gretel Borovic."

"Oh yes! Transfiguration?"

"So you know her?"

"A little." Jamie reconsidered this statement. She probably did not know Gretel at all. What amused her was that this gentle and shy man was born of one of the most powerful Slytherin pureblood families. "Is she here today?"

"No. I came uninvited. My father compelled me to attend."

"Whatever for?" Jamie laughed.

Nicholas shrugged. "I can never rationalize my father's actions."

There was a brief silence as if something in his last line had hit him and sealed his lips. So close to him, Jamie could feel his heavy breathing and felt that if the conversation did not start again, she might suffocate. "Your father looks like a firm man."

"He is a Slytherin."

Jamie had to control herself from jerking. _He is a Slytherin. _There was almost malice in that statement, as if Nicholas detested the fact that he was Slytherin. Before she could ask further, the music had stopped and the dance had come to an end.


	5. Chapter 5

Susan Bartridge treaded the cold stone floor carefully

Susan Bartridge treaded the cold stone floor carefully. Wide, round glasses perched high up on her nose bridge, she edged along, head bowed, feet shuffling in a ridiculous motion that made her look almost like a penguin. She grasped her books tightly to her chest and with an open palm, nervously swept the strands of bushy curly hair out of her face. There had been many instances when she wondered why she could not be pureblood, why the Sorting Hat had screamed 'Hufflepuff!' with such certainty, why she was never as pretty as the rest. Teasing had become a certain part of her life, yet today she was determined to avoid it, setting off for class early so she could fade into the backdrop before Christina Dunbridge arrived, so she could get the seat from which she could look at Bruce Usher, the Slytherin with the awesomely brown hair. It was a silly notion that Susan secretly harboured, the kind of fantasy that would get her through life.

"Oh and look who has come early to class!" There was a cackle and a series of short curt laughter and Susan realized that her brief moment of inattention had walked her straight into the lion's den. She knew better than to look up, and could see all the pairs of shiny black stilettos approaching her. She had been in such occasions before, but Professor Atkinham had always been there to her rescue. Now the Professor was not around. Now Susan would be all alone.

"Looking forward to Charms, eh?" Christina leered in her typical high-pitched voice, which made her teasing even more unbearable. "I certainly am. I heard there's a new teacher to replace your poor old Professor Atkinham."

"She's not old." Susan said softly in mild defiance. "And she's coming back."

"If this Professor does a good job with us, its highly likely they'll just keep him and kick Atkinham out the door."

Susan couldn't imagine the horror her life would become without the Professor and in spite of herself, could not stop the shudder that ran through her body. Christina cackled. "Afraid, are we?"

The period of silence that ensued was unexpected. Susan was sure there would be a slap, or at the very least a rough nudge aside. She squinted up, trying to ascertain what had stopped Dunbridge, and felt a mixed emotion of fear and a tiny wince of delight. There were several theories about the two Slytherins. They could be secretly deeply in love with each other but chose to display affection through fierce quarreling. As far as Susan could tell, Dunbridge was not in love with Bruce Usher and his swaggering group of broom-wielding boys. She was far from it.

"You stink of contaminated blood." Christina sneered. Bruce laughed, shaking the loose locks of brown hair off his face and turned to glare at Susan when he caught her staring in wide-eyed wonder. Susan wanted to keep gazing, but knew better and let her eyes rove to the green patch of field visible just over his shoulder.

"Poor old Susan." Bruce mocked. "Having to listen to your screeching on a daily basis."

"That's not your business, mixed blood."

There was a flurry as Bruce stepped up, so close to Christina that she could smell his breath, grabbing her collar, almost lifting her up. "You call me that again and I'll seal your lips."

Christina leered then opened her mouth, making sure she pronounced every syllable. "…Mixed Blood."

Susan ducked as Bruce flashed his wand muttering words that even Susan could not catch. A shining beam of light spewed out from Bruce's wand, then stopped midway and vanished. Christina ventured a small peek from her crouching position and even Bruce's jaw had dropped in surprise. Bruce Usher was one of the best students in class and Bruce Usher had never ever missed a spell before.

"I haven't seen that one used in a long time." A voice erupted from just behind the pillar where Hector had been silently observing the face-off. His brown hair shimmered slightly in the bright sunlight, as he approached Bruce. Almost sheepishly, Bruce put away the wand and Susan thought she heard him mutter an apology.

"It's a good one, but preferably not for use. It's immensely hard to undo." Hector grinned and flourished the wand at his side. "If you want to avoid trouble, I'd suggest this."

The next time Susan looked up, Christina Dunbridge was screaming, suspended in mid-air, kicking and thrashing hysterically. Everybody was staring in shock, except Hector, who instead rubbed his chin and observed his handiwork. A thin, cruel smile appeared on Bruce's face. After some thought, Hector flicked his wand again. This time Christina's movements suddenly slowed down tremendously and her cheeks began to fill with air. Susan realized with shock that Christina looked like she was underwater. Christina Dunbridge was drowning.

"She's drowning!" Susan yelled, grabbing Hector's trouser-leg. "Let her go!"

Hector merely smiled and shook his head. "She won't drown. There's no water. She'll feel like she's out-of-breath but that's the furthest it'll go."

Bruce chuckled at the ingenuity of the idea and watched as Christina flailed her arms as if in slow motion. Susan took out her own wand. She might be no match for the new professor but she had read up on such prankster charms before. She closed her eyes and muttered the words she hoped were correct. There was a heavy thud as Christina dropped unceremoniously to the ground on all fours.

Hector frowned at Susan. "You know, if you'd let me finish I would have done a much better job of letting her down than you just did."

Susan ignored him and went to offer Christina a helping hand. She waved it away. Instead she turned to Hector with a smile. "You must be the new Professor. What you did there was just…amazing!"

Susan gaped. Oblivious to the shock on everybody's faces, Susan went on crooning. "You're quite young, aren't you? To be a Professor here, you must be smart!"

Even Hector could find no words to reply. Nobody he had pranked before had smiled at him and offered to shake his hand.

"I'm Christina Dunbridge."

"I know the Dunbridges." Hector murmured, reluctantly taking her outstretched hand. "I'm Hector."

"Hanover!" Christina finished with delight. "You're Hector Hanover!"

Susan shuddered, the feeling of dread growing even stronger. Professor Atkinham was going to be away for quite some time and meanwhile, she must take her lessons under one of Hogwarts' most famous pranksters.


	6. Chapter 6

"Do they need you back _that _much?" Alicia whined, reluctantly arranging another stack of clothes into the corner of the suitcase.

Jamie's head was halfway into the cupboard, and she emerged with a new stack of clothes. "Really. If I don't go back soon enough they might just fire me."

Alicia's eyes narrowed. "Don't be silly. You're one of the best Professors around."

"Coming from someone who failed Charms, I'm not convinced." Jamie answered wryly, sitting on the suitcase to see if it would fit. Alicia was silent and pensive.

"I'll miss you, you know."

Jamie paused and got off her suitcase to sit beside her sister, enveloping her in a hug. "I'll miss you too. You're a married woman now, I probably won't see you that often."

"You will!" Alicia laughed, hugging her sister tight. "I'm sure Jarrod wouldn't mind at all."

The intimate moment was shattered by the buzzing of Jamie's phone. It was a message from an unknown number. Alicia read over her shoulder. "Who's Nicholas?"

"A friend." Jamie shrugged nonchalantly. "I met him at your wedding."

Alicia raised her eyebrows cheekily. "You never told me about him."

"Did you think I would spend all those excruciating hours while you were busy declaring your love for Jarrod standing around like an ornament?"

"Why don't you reply him?"

"What for? I'm leaving tomorrow, it makes no sense for me to see him today."

"You don't exactly have anything planned for today _anyway_."

"I barely know him."

"That's not a problem."

"But…"

"He's only asking to date you once. If you don't like him, you'll probably never have to see him again."

Jamie considered. Alicia did have a point. It would do no harm, just once. After all, he had seemed like a nice guy. And she did want to tour the city.

Nicholas waited anxiously, rubbing his fingers together. It was a freezing day and in spite of that, he left his mittens in his pocket. He had not actually thought through how the day was going to go. All he knew was that he had summoned up enough courage in the small heart of his to ask to see Jamie again and things should fall naturally into place once she had arrived. Nicholas remembered with a strange bitter sweetness the last date he had been on. Then it was Amy, a charming girl, except that she had been in Hufflepuff and her father had not been on good terms with his. That was all it took. _Family business_, Jonas Borovic had called it. He was standing at the very spot that he had stood on all those years back when Amy had left him. And left London. And left a huge gaping hole in his life. He had never forgiven his father. Not for all the Slytherin bias that had cost him his happiness.

There was a slight tap on his shoulder. He turned around to stare in the bubbly face that had made such an impression in his mind since the wedding. She was decked in a plain shirt and jeans with a smart brown trench coat and a colourful scarf wound a few times around her neck.

"You look worried to see me."

"No, not at all," Nicholas replied hurriedly, and in a softer voice replied. "I'm glad you would come."

Jamie looked down at her shoes, hoping to hide her guilt. "I'm free anyway."

Nicholas nodded. Jamie rubbed her hands together. "Well, where do you want to go?"

"I thought…" Nicholas hoped his voice was not quivering. He had not done this in three years and it felt odd to be beside a girl once more. "…I thought we could just walk around the park for a while. And then maybe catch a movie."

Jamie almost laughed. If not for the fact that Nicholas had a neat tan, she swore he would have been blushing furiously. He was a big, shy boy who simply wanted to go for a movie with her. She was flattered. And for the first time in many years, she felt like taking him by the hand. She didn't have to as he followed behind her. Hyde Park was alive with activity, as it always was, couples sitting arm to arm on wooden benches, some even snatching a kiss or two. A flower exhibition coloured half of Hyde Park with the bright colours of chrysanthemum and lavender. Jamie felt for the first time in many years, carefree. She swung her arms like a little girl and almost skipped.

"So, how old are you?"

"Twenty-seven."

"Ah, I'm two years younger." Jamie grinned. "I fancy I look older than you in every aspect other than height."

Nicholas couldn't feign a reply and simply laughed along.

"You were in Hogwarts, weren't you?" Jamie asked. "I don't remember you though."

"I was in Quidditch." There was a tinge of hopefulness as if his membership in the Quidditch team might jog her memory.

Jamie merely shrugged. "I didn't keep up with all that sporting news."

Another period of silence. Nicholas wasn't one to talk a lot, but Jamie happened to be the complete opposite.

"So what do you work as now?"

"I work with my father." Nicholas replied so softly Jamie strained to hear. A period of silence ensued as a dark look came over Nicholas's face. It was the same look that had come over him when they were dancing.

"You don't like your father, do you?" Jamie asked boldly.

"He is my father." Nicholas said firmly. "I have a duty."

The mood was now so oppressive Jamie felt compelled to change the subject. She clasped her hands together and brought them to her face, blowing hot air to melt them and the ice that had re-formed around Nicholas.

"It's unusually cold, isn't it?" Jamie commented casually, praying hard that Nicholas would snap out of his pensive mood. "Even in Hogwarts its hardly ever this freezing."

Almost instinctively, Nicholas drew the mittens that he hadn't worn out of his pocket and handed them over. Jamie looked up, surprised at the offer. Nicholas felt his heart racing furiously but pressed on anyway. "Cashmere. It keeps the heat in very well."

"Don't you need…"

Without saying anything further, he grabbed Jamie's hands and gently slid the thick over-sized gloves down her smooth palm. It fitted easily since Jamie's hands were hardly the size of his. He held her hands for a while, wrapped up in his gloves. Jamie flinched.

"You can let go now."

Nicholas broke out of his daze and hurriedly let her hands go. Jamie brought her hands to her side, her fingers fidgeting inside the glove. The gloves were warm indeed, and amazingly comfortable. She stuffed her hands in her pocket and looked back at him boldly.

"What say you to that movie now?"


	7. Chapter 7

Hector twirled his wand around his fingers, one hand casually flipping through the old Charms textbook he had dug out from ten years ago. Occasionally he laughed at the small jokes and doodles that decorated the corners of the pages. The past few lessons, as far as he was concerned, had gone extremely well. Professor Patshire had woken up in the morning to find every portrait guarding the Houses replaced with her face frozen in all forms of unglamorous motions. He had gone around to inspect the flawlessness of each hologram, and praising himself for the effective lesson on illusionary charms. Professor Smith, the Herbology Professor, had got caught under the spell of a charmed mistletoe that students had placed around the school after Hector had given them a demonstration on how to create them and walked around half-smitten with everyone he caught sight of. The school was in mild panic, much to Hector's satisfaction. Now, he was simply deciding which lesson would come next.

His hand stopped short of shutting the book, carefully re-tracing its steps to page a hundred and forty-two. In the corner, his youthful handwriting had scribbled a few words which caught his eye for the pure fact that he could not remember writing it down. _Starlight – Zeevesta. _Suddenly taking interest, Hector retrieved a clean sheet of paper and copied it down. _Accio Zeevesta – dispensing starlight._ Confused yet curious, Hector picked up his wand and pointed at a random square of wall.

"Accio Zeevesta_._"

Nothing happened. Hector scratched his head and tried again.

"Accio Zee-ves-ta."

Again, nothing happened. Annoyed, Hector shut the book and stuffed the sheet of paper into an over-piled drawer. In the drawer, he caught eye of Atkinham's resume, still winking at him.

"What are you sniggering at?" He snapped, even though it seemed ludicrous to be talking to a photograph, and slammed the drawer close.

* * *

Susan dreaded class. She dreaded Charms more than anything in the world now. Charms lesson under Professor Hanover would always produce a new spate of disasters around school. After all the mishaps, she was surprised and mildly annoyed that the Headmaster had still kept him. There could have been no better time for her to see Jamie Atkinham turn the corner with her suitcase.

"Professor!" She yelled breathlessly, sprinting up despite her overload of books to catch up with the young woman. Jamie turned around, raising an eyebrow to see Susan come racing up, her hair disheveled, the topmost Book on Divinations resting precariously on the tower of notes.

"Susan Bartridge?"

"You're back."

"And I hope that's excitement not fear in your voice." Jamie replied kindly, removing the Divination book so she could see Susan's face. "You look a wreck."

"Will you be taking the Charms class today?" Susan asked eagerly. The Professor's answer would decide whether or not she was going to attend the lesson.

"I haven't unpacked yet, Bartridge…"

"But you'll be coming to class?"

Susan's breathless questions caught Jamie's attention and she turned around to face Susan. "Is anything the matter?"

Susan looked down at her feet, suddenly realizing the fool she'd be if she ratted about Hanover to Jamie. Every Slytherin in the class was in love with Hanover; Dunbridge was mooning, Usher had found a new idol in Hector Hanover. What weight would her words carry? They would only make her tantamount to more confrontation sessions with Dunbridge if she should hear about it.

"I just really _really _hope you'll come for the class today, Professor." She said hurriedly, giving Jamie no time to reply before turning around and racing in the other direction.

* * *

It was the first time Hector had seen Jamie Atkinham alive and walking and for a minute, he did not know how to react. The lesson was steeped in a sense of quiet fear as Jamie sat, brooding in the back of the class, eyes observantly studying Hanover. Her eyes were captivating, he concluded. The lesson had gone badly, poorly by his standards because he had been immensely distracted by her bright roving eyes. Now that she had returned, he waited patiently to be ejected and returned home. Upon her request, both Jamie and Hector made their way to the Headmaster's Office.

Jamie didn't think it fit to strike up conversation. She had heard stories of Hector Hanover while she was still in school. Stories of the rats that plagued the Headmaster's room, dismembered lizard tails left wriggling in the plates of Hufflepuff students were still fresh in her mind. Jamie despised people who saw the first thing in life as a joke.

Hector cleared his throat. "So you're Jamie Atkinham?"

Jamie didn't bother to reply but gave an imperceptible nod. Hector laughed. "You're very friendly."

"I don't see why I should bother to strike up a friendship with people I'll possibly never meet again."

"You never considered that I might be compelled to stay?" Hector laughed, faking oblivion to her hostility. "I heard Hogwarts is running out of Professors in Charms."

"Even if Hogwarts has only one Professor left in the entire school, they will not hire you."

"I would not be so sure."

Jamie bit her lip and clenched the wand in her hand. This self-assured man needed a punishment. She flicked her wand at a neighbouring vine, turning her head aside to mouth the words of the charm. Hector smiled, raising the wand that had been prepared at his side a long time ago, dispersing the spell so adeptly that even Jamie was surprised.

"Getting naughty, are we?" He chuckled, raising his eyebrow. In a split second, his wand was directed at Jamie's hands and she could feel the invisible ropes beginning to tighten around her body.

"I'm not as inefficient as you think me to be." Jamie growled, lifting her wand a fraction higher and muttering the words to counter his charm. Unabated, Jamie launched the next offensive, against a clump of grass growing at his feet so they began snaking upwards to tie his ankles. In a flash the grass had shrunk back. The wand duel that followed was hardly visible or even heard. Charms were cast and dispelled within minutes. Abruptly, Hector moved close enough to Jamie to elbow the wand out of her hand and pressed her against the wall, one hand restraining her arms to the sides of her body, the other arm pinning her body to the wall. Hector was close enough to feel her breath on his skin when she spoke.

"You can't bloody do that." She breathed. "That's cheating."

Hector grinned. "There's no cheating, only winning or losing."

Jamie struggled but ultimately Hector was stronger and held her down. "Now we can do this the nice way or the nasty way. You can walk quietly beside me and not pull out any more tricks or you can walk to the Headmaster's Office with your hands bound at your side, following me like a lapdog. Which would you prefer?"

Jamie grunted and he loosened his hold but kept his grip on her arm. A group of students passed by and cast strange glances at the Professors locked in an arm battle.

"Let…me…go." Jamie threatened, glaring at Hector, who kept his eyes focused on the scenery around them.

"What if I say no?"

"You…" Her protest died mid-sentence as another group of bustling teenagers made their way down the corridor. "We'll never make it to the Headmaster's Office in this way."

Hector smiled and let her go, but slid his arm through hers, holding her close to him.

Jamie gaped in horror as she tried to loosen herself from his grip. "Hanover, this is unacceptable…"

"Call me Hector, Jamie." Hector smiled widely, annoying her even more with his irrational exuberance. "You have lost my trust so I fear we're going to have to walk like this, hand-in-hand, all the way to the Headmaster's Office. I'm actually looking forward to the stroll, aren't you?"


End file.
